


Brotherhood

by thisonetraveler



Category: The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: Basically I really love writing these, Drabble Collection, Family, Family Dynamics, Gen, Memories, Siblings, and want to keep doing so whenever I can
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisonetraveler/pseuds/thisonetraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ongoing series of drabbles and one-shots.  Featuring Aaron, but of course Miriam, Moses, and Yocheved make appearances. Because, for Aaron, family comes first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Resilience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Resilience comes in many forms.

Miriam is the fire that lights the way, the kind that burns brighter in defiance of that which attempts to stamp her out.

She is the warmth of home. She is the force that moves mountains. The promise of water in the desert.

 

Aaron is the flame that flickers against the gale, the kind that refuses to die, for there are those who need him.

He is the foundation of family. He is the mountain itself, weathered but standing strong. The steady beat of hammer at the forge.


	2. Thicker Than Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after the first plague, meaning it’s also post-“Aaron, you shame yourself.” So, a moment of connection between siblings. The story naturally developed as 2nd-person POV, and it's open to criticism.

The smell of iron hangs in the air as you shake your head. Try as you might, you can’t dislodge the image of all that red, snaking through veins banked by mud and sand.

When you find her in the crowd, you quietly step beside her. But before you can even get out the words, she’s wrapping her arms around you. Instinctively, you brace her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Aaron."

You’re caught off guard again, and a sigh reveals you. She gives you another squeeze before pulling back to study your face. You smile. It’s a small thing, but you know she understands. Hers is a wide grin as she takes your hand and gently pulls you in a direction probably only she knows for sure. With another sigh and shake of your head, you follow, because you were never very good at fighting the current.


	3. But now gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during "Deliver Us." The one where I finally write Yocheved. Also, Aaron is about four years old (based more or less on the source material).

“Be quick, and stay close," his mother had instructed.  A word of warning, and a promise of protection.

He watched as Pharaoh’s men rushed past, and even though he felt her fingers brush his shoulder, suddenly he didn’t want to move.   _No. Let’s go home._

But then, a gentle push at his back. And he had to move.

Bare feet flying over stone.  Doing his best to match pace with his mother.  His sister.  His brother.  His brother?  In her arms.  And they were going to keep him safe.

Stay close.

He did.  And soon he was reaching for her hand, breathing in gasps of air that smelled like the river.  Water and earth and life.  He could feel his heartbeat against her palm, pounding as if he were still running.  He had no name for what he’d just seen.  Only images and sounds that flared, and were already fading, in his mind.   _Panic_ , his sister would call it: later, whenever his pulse began to thud and his muscles seize.

But that day, the wind was blowing.  He was sure.  Because it towed his brother swiftly across the water.

They were going to keep him safe.

Safe.

As he lost his brother to the swells, he wondered.  Why did  _safe_  have to mean  _far away_?


	4. Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes faith is hidden, protected. It gets shaken, then reclaimed.
> 
> I had wanted this ready for Nov. 23, which is known as "Good Big Brother Day" in Japan (a pun on the numbers 1123). I've kind of hit wall of grief, so my writing's taken a hit as well. But I hope this is still alright. [Edited on Dec. 11]  
> 11月23日は「いい兄さんの日」です。そのために特別な話を書こうと思っていました(もちろんAaronの話です(笑))・・・ まあ大した物じゃないんですが、楽しみにしてください。  
> 

In Aaron’s mind, Moses had become a near-mythic figure, a specter around which tales were spun.

“We  _will_  see him again.”  Miriam’s eyes blazed when she said this, and Aaron beheld that light, stowing a bit of it away.

Though it made no sense.  And he _knew_ that.  Once something was gone, it couldn’t come back, and ghosts weren’t real.

…and yet.

Their brother still lived.

Didn’t he?

Aaron set his jaw.

If it was possible to see him again — despite every improbability — then he would.  He’d try.  He’d hang on to that light.


End file.
